


It Grows

by Dylina



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Anal Sex, Death, Erotic Dance, Horror, Lorenz Week (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Lovecraftian, Lovecraftian Erotica, M/M, mandrake - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:35:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26250526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dylina/pseuds/Dylina
Summary: Lovecraftian inspired horror told from the point of view of Linhardt.Written for Lorenz Week 2020
Relationships: Linhardt von Hevring / Lorenz Hellman Gloucester
Kudos: 5
Collections: Lorenz Week 2020





	1. Chapter 1

After the great war which unified the whole of Fodlan I renounced my nobility and vanished off the face of the earth, well not literally. I disappeared from public life and made certain there were no further records of my life afterwards. People tried to find me, apparently someone with my genius should not be allowed to live freely. I should shoulder responsibility and be punished for my intelligence with work. My mind is my own, I owe no one anything. This has led me to live as a junked up vagabond escaping the physical world with narcotics and occult experiences. Experimental sex, forbidden magic and strange concoctions; I have tried them all to experience something beyond mere human experience. I have adventured to find pleasure without limit. My travels have led me to the darkest, secretive corners of Fodlan and beyond. I have travelled beyond the borders to far off lands for new experiences. I write this not as a record of my life but as a warning. I have been incarcerated in a dungeon for the crime of lunacy. I am known as 'mad old Linhardt'. I am to undergo a lobotomy within hours to rid my head of these crazy thoughts. Before my mind becomes a blank slate I need to write why I am this way. I need to tell what has driven me to despair. If you ever heard anyone mention 'The cult of Lorenz Hellman Gloucester ' then erase it from your mind. Distance yourself as much as possible and run as fast as he can. Do not even harbour an iota of curiosity. Sometimes things cannot be unseen., unheard or forgotten. Be blissful in your ignorance about the true dark history of Fodlan. I yearn for my ignorance to be restored to me. The truth is too horrible to imagine.

.......

Time and date no longer mattered to me. I napped when I wanted, ate when I pleased and engaged in activity at my leisure. I could nap for days without a care in the world. Fodlan was always been an abundant source of food. To find berries, mushrooms and fishing spots was easy. I could eat as much or as little as I pleased. Life was good! 

I did not know the month or year when this happened. As mentioned previously I cared little for time and the way it is used to order and control people. All I remember was mild weather and lengthy periods of darkness. At whatever time or date it was, I happened to be in Ordelia territory. I planned on visiting the newly established public library to indulge in reading. The independence of being able to read anything and everything, to change my interests whenever something new catches my attention is bliss. What is wrong with changing path if one gets boring or bumpy? Loyalty and dedication are hassles I want nothing to do with. Fleeting interest is my speciality. 

The library was a spectacular feat of architecture. I had never seen a building like it in my life. It was made entirely from metal hammered into a giant textured sphere. Atop the metal ball was a fire pit full of a rainbow of flames. Leading up to the library was a gateway to a path cocooned by a greenhouse. Within the greenhouse pathway was an array of rare varieties of flower. Ordelia territory was famous for having a library containing every know variety of seed preserved and stored. This was to ensure that no plant would ever be completely wiped out of existence. 

I ambled up the pathway with a pace slower than elderly gentleman with mobility issues and a cane. My slow speed offended many, not that I cared a jot. I lost count of the number of dirty looks I received for breaking walking etiquette. My walk was particularly devious as I walked in swivels and swirls. I was but a bee buzzing from flower to flower. Enough of the analogies, I can ramble on at times. When I finally reached the building I was greeted by a labyrinth of books. Oh my goodness, everywhere the eye could see was book on book on book on book. With every breath I breathed in the dusty smell of books. Books underneath my feet, over my head and far into the distance; I had found my paradise.

I do not know how many days I spent lost in the library. In fact I am surprised that I ever resurfaced from the depths. Read, nap, eat bread, read, nap, eat bread, read, nap, more bread; my skin formed a patina of spots due to the lack of variety in my diet. 

My endless exploring meant that I eventually stumbled upon a coil of stairs descending into the bowels of the earth. It ventured so deep that only darkness could be seen. Of course I had to go down the spiral, my curiosity is my curse. Round and round, never ceasing and growing increasing steep, it felt like I had been walking for days. My head felt dizzy. I had no choice but to nap on a step. When I finally reached the bottom I discovered a library of forbidden books. There were many interesting titles down there. There were books written by TWSITD and their allies detailing their blood experiments and beastly magick. None of those books held my interest like a little pocket sized black book. I do not know why but I was transfixed in it. The material used as paper was very peculiar. It reminded me of the jerky skin that peels off when you are sunburnt, but thicker and tanned black. For some unknown reason touching the book made my skin crawl. I found it instantly revolting but still I couldn't leave it be. I kept circling it like a vulture. 

It must have taken me days to find the courage to open it when I finally peeled open the front cover I discovered a pristine map. The map plotted a trail into Gloucester territory to a clearing in the woods. If I desired to follow the trail it wouldn't have been a bother. 

When I turned the next page I slammed the book shut in absolute horror. What was depicted upon that page was utterly impossible. Hatred, I felt hatred for what I saw. To find a way to describe what caused so much distress is difficult. As I write my hands shake and bowels loosen in terror. Excuse me I must change my clothing.

If my writing is smeared I do apologise but my eyes are full of water I will endeavour to mop up as much as possible with my sleeve. At least I am no longer seated in soiled clothing. 

My mind is still plagued with the images contained in that book, the images of pulsating, throbbing, bleeding, rotting vegetables. Instinct told me they were vegetables rather than the appearance. The angles and shapes defied mathematics and physics. They contained intricate details in the dimensions between light. They seemed to levitate off the page. 

I ran from the library as fast as my legs could carry me. I ran and never once looked back. It was to late, the damage had been done. The map had been engraved in my memory.


	2. Chapter 2

I could not believe how fast and far I ran. The terror overrided fatigue as I bolted without aim or direction. All my surroundings were a blur. Whilst looking straight ahead I failed to notice signposts and landmarks. My vision was tunnelled, the periphery did not exist. I could have ran for days or months and the difference would have been irrelevant. There was running and then there was collapse; that is all I know of my retreat. 

When I woke up I was laid on a bed without a mattress. The wooden bed frame was filled with soil. Over my body a blanket made of woven twigs had been laid. I found this most curious. My curiosity was distracted by itching. I could not stop myself from scratching. The gown I had been draped in was made of straw. I was tormented by abrasions and pokes. I removed the garment clumsily, without breakage. My poor body was covered with polka dot scabs. 

A lady entered without warning. I did not hear her approach. It was as though she had floated into the room. Her scent offended me greatly. I vividly remember it, she smelt of damp, bonemeal and herring. Needless to say I covered my face to protect myself from the stench. Manners and politeness; both get in the way of honesty. I did not care if she was offended by my reaction. She stank and it needed to be known. 

She distracted me from the oddity of the bed with her bizarre appearance. She was completely bald, that wasn't the weird part, embedded in her skelp were hundreds of little sesame seeds. It was like they had been planted but not covered with top soil. The skin on her face appeared to be stretched across and thin in places. I had never considered the importance of facial hairs before. The lady lacked eyebrows and lashes and it made her look not quite right. Her eyes were flat in colour and tiny compared to the size of her sockets and her lips wrinkled and thin. Her clothing was a long dress made of dried flowers. Let's just say that she wouldn't be winning any beauty pageants.

"You are awake, good, good." I took instant offence to her voice. She did not speak but buzzed. 

"Where am I? " I was eager to leave but couldn't until I had located my clothing. There was no way I was going to put that ghastly gown on again. 

"Gloucester territory." Once again her voice offended me. I found myself becoming fidgety when she spoke, like she was crawling over me like a spider. Her response was unsettling . I thought I had ran further. It felt like I had ran across the sea to Almyra. Perhaps my retreat had just been one large circle. The memory of the map I saw in that ghastly book returned to me. Was it possible that I had been subconsciously following the map? That thought freaked me out. I had wanted to forget that I had ever saw that damn book. Involuntarily my mind would not let me. 

"Thank you for your assistance. May I ask where my clothing is?" The thought of her undressing me and changing my clothing was disquieting . She was the last person I would want touching me. Her flesh looked clammy and cold. To touch it would have been unpleasant. 

"I am repairing them. They were ripped." I found myself engaging in involuntary comfort actions as she spoke; self hugging and hair fiddling . I loathed the fact I had to keep asking her questions. Looking at her was bad enough. She stood at the end of the bed hunched over, staring at me with an intensity that made me shudder through my core. 

"Could I have them back please?" I did not care if they were ripped. There could have been more damage than fabric, I did not care. All I cared about was getting out of there. New clothing would be easy to obtain. The lady turned away and moved towards the door in silent steps. Her movements were inhuman, she seemed to slither rather than walk. 

The moment I was left alone I dashed over to the window and forced it open I felt the need for fresh air after sharing air with her. It took some exertion to open it due to overgrown ivy and moss. Once opened the frame crumbled leaving a gap where the glass was exposed.

Out of the window I noticed dense forest. Trees had been crowded together leaving no room to pass between them. They spiralled upwards at impossible angles reaching for the light. Below the ground was barren. The trees had been successful blocking out the light and stealing the nutrients in the soil so that nothing else could grow.

The moment I heard rattling of the handle I swiftly slipped back into the bed. She wheeled in a headless mannequin wearing my robes. They were virtually unrecognizable. Patchwork squares of unidentifiable fabric made up the garment. I wondered what had caused them to be in such a state. I did not ask her for further information. I simply did not want to hear her speak. I would have rather gone deaf!

"I will dress myself and then be on my way. Thank you for your help." I was eager for her to depart but her departure was agonisingly slow. She seemed to creep to the door rather than walk. I felt the overwhelming urge to push her along. Pushing her would have meant touching her and that idea was detestable . I ground my teeth waiting for her to depart. There was vile language on my lips, the language of a pirate in stormy seas. Impatience nagged at me, adding tension to every muscle. My body became closed, coiled like a spring never allowed to release. I mumbled profanity as she finally closed the door behind her. 

I undressed the mannequin hastily and was instantly offended by the nudity. My offence made me cloth it in the straw robes I had slept in. My memory only recalls certain features of the mannequin. The most noticeable was the multiple nipples. They formed an incomprehensible symbol over the chest. The symbol seemed to be an impossible perversion of the circle of life. Liquid had stained them with milky smudges. Where the private region should be was a flower I did not recognise. It seemed to be a carnivorous rose with petals like a cactus. 

When I was dressed I climbed out the window. I had no desire to interact further with the lady. I detested her existence. I know I had no motivation for my hatred. I just could not change how I felt. She had probably saved me from death and yet I wanted her to die. My thoughts were unjustified, callous even, but I refused to alter them. As I write I still feel the burn of hatred in my heart. 

Every step I made kicked up dust. I spent more time coughing than walking. For longer than I can remember breathing was difficult, my lungs were caked in suffocating dirt. As I wheezed and gasped the situation grew increasingly dire. Branches of trees reached for me and attempted to tourniquet any part of my body that could be grasped. If I wasn't grappled by branches I was colliding with trunks or tripping over roots. Every time I tumbled into a heap I felt like the air had been battered out of me. My direction and destination were unclean. Once again I was running on a whim, praying that I was away from that grotesque lady. 

I stopped as water crossed my path. I presumed it was water but it was jet black with a viable oily silt. The choices were limited and I had little time to evaluate my decision. I could turn back to the house with the ghastly lady. My heart's raw repellent nature towards her made that option obsolete. I could travel along the bank and searched for a bridge or similar crossing point. That option seemed time consuming and I was eager to put countries between myself and the lady. The final option was to cross through the black water. 

I tentatively dipped a toe in the water, fearing it might be bitten off by a deadly creature hidden in the blackness. Thankfully it was only my overactive imagination playing games with me. My toe remained attached to my foot. I sunk the rest of my foot into the water. Still everything seemed perfectly alright, no sting, no poisoning, nothing worrisome at all. Further and further I immersed my foot, slowly...very slowly until my sole rested on the sludge of the waterbed. 

All the nightmares and the terror in scary stories could not compare to the horror I felt when the water started to bubble around my foot. A slurping sound made my skin crawl as I desperately grabbed my leg and attempted to pull it free. My lungs were clogged up making screaming impossible. My cries for help were nothing more than coughs and raspy noises of indigestion. Sweat and black water combined to soak through my clothing, adding excess weight to my tired limbs. I felt weak and hopeless as my foot refused to bulge. My heart yelled like a prisoner in my chest, yearning to escape my body and leave me behind. 

Suddenly I was dragged through the water downstream. It was like I was rolling atop of a carpet of marbles. It did not hurt, but my underwear was coloured in piss because of it. My arms failed and flapped as they tried to reach for anything. Nothing was within reach and my pace was too fast to see anything anyway. All around me was a smudge of claustrophobic forest. 

Soon I reached a large body of water with an island in the centre. The scenery was extraordinary! The beach was made of purple sand, as though someone had ground amethyst to powder and sprinkled it upon the shore. When the water caressed the shore it turned into an opalescent blend of black and ultraviolet. The trees did not stand talk and proud, with their treetops forming an umbrella of green. They appeared to be bent over in the prayer position. Every single tree was bent inwards, towards the centre of the island, as though they were offering praise to a deity within. 

I was unceremoniously dumped upon the shore, cushioned by the warm, billowy sand. It felt beautiful, better than silk, velvet, any fabric I had ever touched. I embedded my toes deep into the sand and filtered millions of tiny grains through my fingers. At that precise moment I was possessed with overwhelming joy. This joy held my eyes captive and made me weep in rivers. This joy bound my tongue and made me laugh so hard that it cleared my lungs. I do not remember how long the joy lasted. I could have been prisoner to the emotion for days without being aware of it. 

When the joy finally subsided I found myself washed up on the shore absolutely famished. My stomach felt so hollow, so empty and ached so much. Honestly it felt like it would caved in at any moment. This pain was the driving force behind me scrambling further inland, ignoring the disquieting formation of trees and their bent position. I crawled on hands and knees over dust. It wasn't long until I encountered a vegetable patch. The power of my hunger meant that I did not inspect the vegetable I picked, a lettuce, rather brown and with the outer leaves wilting. Normally lettuces are crisp but the one I sank my teeth into was warm and squishy. In my teeth it became mushy paste. The taste was nothing. At least I do not recall a taste, just texture and heat. After eating the vegetable I felt energised and full, very, very full, imagine eating a banquet containing 25 courses, that was the level of fullness I felt. My belly swelled, like a pregnancy bump. In fact my whole body was bloated. I should have been alarmed by how large my fingers and toes became, and how puffy my cheeks were. I wasn't, I simply did not care. The feeling of ease was tremendously liberating. Imagine all the troubled and stressed of life vaporized into nothing, that was how good it felt.


	3. Chapter 3

Beyond the vegetable patches was a wooden construct. With my curiosity newly unleashed by rest and nourishment I pulled myself to my feet and approached with caution. The soil was hard beneath my feet but the vegetables squelched between my toes. The squelching noise of splashed vegetables was quite unpleasant. To describe it exactly is difficult; gargling, squelching, kissy, sucking sound, it made me feel nauseous. I started to create an obstacle course weaving through the vegetables. Finally I drew close enough to identify the wooden construct. It was a small hut. To use wood as the sole building material did strike me as odd. In the middle of a forest it was vulnerable to fire. The roof was a pyramid of thatched twigs, green and grey with an abundance of moss. The main body of the building was made from wooden planks placed in chequered designs. I say chequered because it is the nearest human formation of the extraordinary pattern. The pattern was so complex it made by eyes water from the strain of looking at it. There were marvellous yet disquieting angles which were impossible in theory but dimensionally transcended into actuality. Laws of maths and science were shattered by these walls. They instantly discarded old paradigms and created entirely new ones. The unfamiliarity of the potential new paradigms made me shudder. It would be impossible to observe a plain object in the same way again. Everything had been complicated beyond reason and beyond human logic. Angles had dimensions, beyond dimensions, transcending spheres of perception. My head pounds just thinking about the forbidden knowledge I had accessed just staring at that wall. 

I told you that the building was made entirely of wood. After being occupied by the walls my eyesight caught sight of the windows. The oval shaped windows were not made of glass but very fine wood, so fine that it became see through. I have seen thin tissue paper but the windows were taking thinness beyond what I knew was possible. I touched the fine wood but it still had remarkable rigidity. 

There was a ominous creak as the door opened, independent of any obvious means. "Hello?" I called into the darkness of the building. My voice bounced in echoes around the place. I assumed that there was nothing within because nothing absorbed my voice, so I entered. My paranoid instincts made me believe that the door would close on its own behind me. To my surprise it remained hung open. 

A few steps in and everything became clearer. The floor was a carpet of grass covered with a pastel rainbow of wild flowers. I found the scent inviting, delicate and sweet. The wallpaper was made of a tapestry of autumnal foliage. I did not know what the intricate designs were meant to depict. All I could decrypt was a picture of a humanoid coming out of the ground with trees and animals bowing to it. My eyes floated over the vast number of people knelt down on floral prayer cushions. There was not a distinguishing feature between them. Each and every person was a copy, a perfect match of other. I could not see their faces due to face veils and the oversized woven robes of straw. There was a cushion free. Somehow I knew that it was meant for me. I neither willingly nor unwillingly knelt down on the cushion and clutched my hands in prayer.

We faced a mound of dirt, reminiscent of a burial mound without a tombstone. The people around me changed in a language I had never heard before. They were using vowels impossible to tie the human tongue around. There was a rumble from the dirt mound. Something was erupting from deep within. I felt my hands tremble as I peeked through the barriers of my fingers. Something slithered to the surface, coiling and snakelike; a solitary root. Then another accompanied the first root, then another, then another, then another until I lost count. There was a mass of curling, wriggling, sinuous, worming roots. They knitted together into an incomprehensible patterns to form a floating sphere. It spun and spun, dizzying, vomit inducing, eye sight perverting roundness. Everything swirled around me, not just the ball of roots. 

Crack! An egg broken upon the side of a bowl was the sound emitted by the ball. The trembling moved from my hands down my arms. Fear had disabled me, made me unable to flee and bound me to the spot. My heart dreaded what was about to be revealed to me, at what new truth I would learn. 

Ghastly hands, hands embedded with soil with embellishments of roots, terrible terrible hands; my eyes stared at them, afraid to blink. Those inhuman hands parted the egg to reveal a beautiful but revolting silhouette. The silhouette was humanoid with sensual chunky thighs designed for straddling and wrapping around someone or something. He stood with legs slightly bent with one in front of the other. There was something alluring in the poised way he presented himself. Up from the thighs were his wide hip which curved subtly into his torso. They were hips designed to be grabbed in the frenzy of sexual ecstasy. Roots cascaded around his legs like sinister tassels. They lashed threatening with the sharpness of whips. I wanted to run but then I didn't, I was drawn in, sucked in and fully seduced by the beautiful ugliness of the creature. I had not blinked since it hatched from the roof egg.

He looked straight at me, focussing only on me. Oh what pretty eyes he had. They were pools of ultraviolent loveliness. The depth of colour and radiance were beyond what mere humans could fully experience. Those gorgeous eyes in serpent shape had hypnotized me. I would have ripped my heart from my chest for him. I would have murdered without remorse for him. I would have sacrificed friend, lover, child and even myself to appease him. He was my god. 

The closer he drew the more intoxicated I became with his aroma.. What caressed my nostrils was a mixture of the loveliest of things; fresh grass, lavender, honeysuckle oil, delicate rose petals, enticing citrus notes and exotic woody musks. It was the perfume of addiction. 

He caressed my cheeks with rose leaf soft fingers. My hair was pushed back from my face and my head guided towards his woody cock. I do not know whether I was in control or not. Were my actions my own or corrupted by an outside force? I will never know the answer to those questions. I do not regret my actions either. I licked up the length of his cock in long strokes. I could feel his knees softly buckle for me. A sticky sap started to drizzle upon the acorn smooth head. I flicked over the head with the tip of my tongue and tasted the sweet, sweet sap. It was delicious, I yearned for more. My body sweated with the blaze of need. I whined and purred as I lapped up every drop in desperate licks and sucks. I could feel his body sliver for me and soft hoots serenaded me as I ravished his cock. 

My feverish hands grasped his hips and squeezed, anchoring him still to enable me to devour him fully I used my lips as gloves for my teeth as I yanked the head of his cock in and out my cock. In an embrace the roots extended from his limbs and enveloped me. They were gentle as they rippled over my body. I teased with just the head to begin with before I swallowed him deep, sucked him hard. The darkness I engulfed him nearly suffocated me. I did not care, I had chosen his cock over my life. He contracted around me, revealing an even sweeter scent. He erupted in blissful earthquakes as he filled me up with all his syrupy sap. I fell back with a ridiculous smile upon my face and sap drooling from my mouth. The roots cradled my fall before softly laying my body upon the ground. Each root started to dig like little shovels and buried all of my body in dirt, except for my head. I did not panic at all. I was lost in paradise. Elation and fixation left me mindless and euphoric.


	4. Chapter 4

When the euphoria subdued and some sense of clarity returned to me I was able to start to try and process what had happened. What had happened? The question was written across my mind in capital letters with several question marks and exclamation marks following. Deep down I new the truth, I knew what I had witnessed. I had witnessed the coming of a god, an interrestrial being which lived in the centre of the earth. In the soil they are dormant as they grow and feed through the surrounding nutrients. I had sucked the cock of a god! That thought was overwhelming. I did not know whether to feel honoured or horrified, or both. From drinking his sap I had been given the gift of forbidden knowledge. I learnt of the existence of the old gods who created this world. Once upon a time they lived upon the surface when it was a beautiful wild garden. They sustained the garden for millennia until they needed to rest and refuel. That was when they retreated into the soil, down further than humankind could ever hope to reach. Why I had been gifted with his knowledge I do not know. Was it generosity or cruelty? What was the creatures motivation? There were so many questions which did not yield answers, only further questions.

I should have been more than a little alarmed at my predicament. It is not everyday you find yourself buried with just your head sticking out of the ground. There was no escape, the burial was too deep for my feeble body. I knew I wasn't going to die. My heart and a normally dormant part of my brain gave me reassurance. So I just lay there as still as a tree trunk, waiting and waiting. I was waiting for Him to return. 

The floral scent still lives in my nostrils as I write. It was the purest essence of flowers, the true essence, the true smell. Beautiful and heady, I was seduced into constant sniffs of the air. The scent was soo powerful it could have lifted me off my feet and carried me through the air. My eyes were full of the image of manly beauty exposed before me. He emerged from the space between shadow and light, a space unseen by the inferior human eye. He walked with pointed toes like a dancer ready to perform a sultry routine. His arms rippled to an unheard melody as His bracelet of roots jingled softly. 

This was the first time I got a glimpse at his hair. It consisted of purple leaves cascading downwards. I could only stare in awe at the grand display of leafy plumage. His lips brushed against my cheeks, lips with the sole purpose of kissing and whispering seductive promises of forbidden paradise. Arrangements of carnations and chrysanthemums grew around me and sweetened the air, commingling with His decadent perfume and my fresh sheen of sweat to create an libidinously intoxicating atmosphere.

The way He stared deeply into my eyes while He contorted His body in sensual positions which sent shivers down my spine. I was awestruck by the beautiful lines He created and the smooth movements as He transitioned in and out of our twirls and undulations, slow and sultry. He glided gently and seductively over to me expressing His most beautiful features every single moment and I was captivated. His creamy thighs designed for squeezing, his smooth buttocks designed for teasing, the sinuous streamline of his achingly beautiful chest, his sensual pouting lips, dazzling eyes and fantastical fan of leafy hair were positioned in such a titillating style. He was deliberately, pointedly, gloriously naughty.

He stole my lips from me, shamelessly and flagrantly. The greater the profligacy, the effrontery, the servility, the greater the faith in the god of passion. He was the God of passion and sexual pleasures. He was a god and he offered himself to me. He could give more pleasure beyond pleasure, sensations of euphoria so great that they were unimaginable. He promised me an eternal life of these pleasures. There would be no more pain just endless bliss. 

I rose from the dirt, hard and throbbing for him. My cock was begging with tears of precum. Lorenz Hellman Gloucester; that was the name of my god. He had imprinted the name in my mind. He rubbed his buttocks against the length of my slimy cock. My moans were a chorus which filled the air and the hidden dimensions between the particles. His body was a giant root which absorbed and fed off my precum. He was the flower and my cock was a rain cloud sustaining him. 

Slowly, achingly slowly he lowered himself down the length of my cock. I could feel him sucking me in and squeezing into the narrow passage. My neck and chest throbbed with moans. Every veins in my cock threatened to blister it felt so dam n good. Good is such a weak word to describe how I felt but humans do not have a suitable word. 

He swiveled on my cock in figures of eight signs whilst riding falling up and down the lengrh. The exotic dance had me staring, mesmerized and lost in lust. He blossomed for me, buds formed from his roots in an kaleidoscope of colours I had never seen before. Sweet berries free in his leafy hair and he fed them to me. The taste ruptured my tastebuds so that I would never be able to enjoy normal food against. I had tasted the finess, the sweetest essence of flavour and nothing could never compare to it. From his mouth came an explosion of petals, falling over my body like a rain storm of confetti. 

I grasped His hips with all my might and pounded myself in to him. I fucked that godly star as hard as I could. I used all the strength I could muster and then eked out some more. I pushed him him into his back and spread his legs into a v and continued to plough myself inside him. I do not know what had come over me but all I know was that I was desperate to cum inside him. All the while he looked upon me with those oh so lecherous eyes with a wanton smile and lulling hungry tongue. 

Orgasming, it was intense, it was blindingly intense. Every nerve in my being was sparked into life to feel over what they were capable.My body was eruptions was shuddering zeniths. My cock felt like the heart of a flame when I poured my cum into him. Yet I did not stop, I continued to ram myself, my balls slapped his fear and my cock squelched in my cum. It was an amazing, multiple spirals of orgasms. I transcended pleasure into some greater and more profound. I exploded with excessive cum, more then I could have ever imagined producing. The cum oozed out of his anus in thick blobs and dripped to the soil. The soil drank it up hungrily, just as hungry and lusty as I was. 

Exhaustion smacked me like a battering ram. My body could exert itself no longer I fell to the ground in a panting, sweaty hump. I felt something soft laid over me, a blanket made of a patchwork of petals. It was the perfect blanket for napping. It smothered me in softness and I had the sweetest nap I had ever had.


	5. Chapter 5

When I woke up He wasn't there. All that was left was the blanket made of petals and a trail of purple leaves. I sat up and reached for a leaf. For a moment I cradled it in my palms. The velvety texture felt divine, decadent even. If I could have a bed made of them I would never awaken from napping. The intensity of the colour was noticeable as well. It had so much depth that gazing upon it made my head ache. Then something peculiar started to happen, the veins of the lea f started to pulsate. Membrane pus oozed into the surface which smelt so vile that I projectile vomited in all directions and I did not stop until all that was left was stomach bile, and even that soon dried up. The feelings I felt in the library returned to me, those feeling of vehement hatred and fear. My throat was raw and my stomach felt like it had been torn out, stretched and then stuffed back inside me. These ailments accompanied with such intense emotions made my head spin. All my limbs were possessed with groggy lethargy. At that moment I wanted to die.

The ooze on the leaf started to bubble whilst creating disgusting popping sounds. It wasn't the same leaf I had picked up, somehow it had changed to something revolting. The surface was no longer velvety, it was rotten and fleshy. I recoiled at the sight. Some images impregnate the mind with pure revulsion and that leaf was one such image. 

RUN, every fibre within me begged me to run. With every punch of my heart against my ribcage I could feel it scream, "RUN!" My chattering teeth and quivering fingertips urged me to do the same. Nothing in my mind d was working properly , everything felt distorted and wrong. It was not the time to make rash decisions but my body made one. I ran like the wind. Inside of me my bones clattered with every movement. They felt ready to snap at any given moment. Breathing proved to be especially difficult as my throat twisted and tightened. If anyone had seen me they would have only seen a blur. 

To this day I had no idea where I was running to or from. My memory of the map has forsaken me. The location of the strange plant God no longer exists. I have no idea why I ran from Him. I was promised a world of limitless pleasure. He would have shown me marvels and let me experience things beyond human imagination. I would have travelled to new dimensions, learnt the secrets of time and existence. My knowledge would have been infinite. My mind could not cope with what was inhuman. My mind was terrified of the truth. My mind was scared of change and abandonment. What I could have experienced would have made my mind redundant and allowed me to live as a higher being. My mind did not want that so it filled me with hatred and fear. "

"That is all Linhardt was able to write. " The soldier handed the documentation over to Hubert von Vestra, who had been assigned the duty of investigating Linhardt's death. He glanced over the scruffy handwriting with a friend etched on his face. "What does the nurses report say about his condition in the final days of his life?"

The soldier cleared his throat in an awkward grace. "He had to be restrained for his own safety. He kept demanding a lobotomy. He claimed that a plant man was out to kill him. He acted violently in the presence of plants and flowers. He claimed a bouquet of roses were assassins. Apparently he claimed that he had hurt the plant man by running away and that this supposed plant man wanted revenge."

Hubert raised a quizzical eyebrow as he was handed the report composed by the nurses. Linhardt had truly descended into madness, or so it seemed. "Tell me about his death?"

The soldier shuddered as he recalled the sight of the body distorted by ulcers and abscesses. "He turned his magic on himself and filled his bloodstream with poison. All his internal organs had disintegrated. He was just bones and flesh full of ulcers and abscesses. There wasn't even any muscle left. It had all wasted away. His blood had turned purple due to the vast amount of poisonous magic he administered. You can imagine how distressed the nurses and nuns were when they discovered his body. They did find one thing in his body. He was clutching a purple leaf." The soldier passed the leaf encased in a glass to Hubert. 

Hubert examined the leaf, for some strange reason he found it fascinating, in fact it was difficult to look away. ,

"Count Von Vestra, are you alright?"

" Yes, I am fine. I will take this with me. We wouldn't want people to think that crazy Linhardt's ramblings had any truth in them. You are dismissed."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading.


End file.
